


Purple

by Dayspring



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Non-Consensual, hurt-comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-06
Updated: 2004-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayspring/pseuds/Dayspring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha doesn't need an advanced degree in Art to figure it out, but Jonathan might. Originally published in the zine, I Can't Stand to Fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple

"May I be excused?"

I looked at the nearly full plate sitting on the table in front of Clark and nodded reluctantly. He took his plate and glass to the kitchen, then slowly climbed the stairs to his room. 

"He's going to make himself sick." 

My husband was an expert at stating the obvious, and the lack of compassion in his tone irritated me. "His best friend has been missing for two weeks, Jonathan. He's hurting." Lex Luthor had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, and Clark had taken it hard. 

"The feds are still looking, aren't they?" 

"Yes, but with no request for a ransom, well, they're not hopeful." 

Jonathan Kent stood and picked up his empty plate. "At first I thought maybe he was just pulling a stupid stunt to get back at his father, but now..." 

"Clark told you Lex wouldn't do anything like that." 

"Lex has Clark so bamboozled that he thinks the man can walk on water." 

"We know for a fact what Lionel's position is when Lex is in harm's way," I said dryly, remembering Lionel's thorough lack of emotion at the plant when Lex had gone in to confront Earl Jenkins. His composure as he ordered the building sealed against the methane leak had chilled my soul. I understood the necessity of the action, but, God, that was his son in there. He could have at least pretended he felt something. "Probably out of everyone he knows, Clark would be the one most hurt by Lex's disappearance. He wouldn't do that to Clark. The boy may be strongwilled, but he's not cruel." 

"Tell that to the Hardwicks." 

I placed my glass down on the table a bit too forcefully, causing the knife on my plate to clank noisily. I'd known women--families--like the Hardwicks when I lived in Metropolis. I knew Victoria Hardwick did not deserve Jonathan's sympathy. "What she did was cruel." 

"Luthor may have had her in desperate straits," Jonathan argued. 

"She followed him to Smallville. Then she proceeded to read his files while he's at work. How is that Lex's fault?" 

"You don't know--" 

"Clark caught her at it, Jonathan! So did that poor little girl, Amy Palmer." 

"And I suppose that mess wasn't Luthor's fault either?" 

"Teenagers get crushes, and from what I hear, what happened was because Lex actually deigned to treat his servants like people." 

"His servants," Jonathan repeated, disgust in his voice. 

I wanted to tell him that if we were paid by the hour as much as they were, we wouldn't have to worry about a second mortgage on the farm. But that would be--mean, and it would just get him in a worse mood. One brooding male in the house was enough. "He's a young man living alone in a castle. He needs help." 

"When Clark's twenty-two and living alone, he's not going to need 'help.'" 

"That's because Clark has grown up doing dishes and helping with the laundry. Lex isn't responsible for the way he was raised. If he was ours--" 

"If he was ours, he wouldn't look like that." 

"Like what!" I asked, shocked at what Jonathan seemed to be implying. "You know why he looks like that. We know what those meteors were like and we were protected in a truck!" 

"I'm not talking about the hair and the skin. I'm talking about--" Jonathan waved his arms as he looked around for the right word. "I'm talking about the purple!" 

I sat down and stared at the man I'd married, the man I apparently didn't know. "Tell me you didn't say that," I requested wearily. He couldn't be saying what I thought he was saying. He was just talking about Lex's color preferences, his fondness for violet and the like. He wasn't talking about... I knew the suspicions everyone had about Lex. I also knew the suspicions I had about Clark. 

My thoughts must have shown on my face because Jonathan reddened and sat down across from me. "You know what I mean. Hell, Martha, I know people can't help being who they are, but does he have to flaunt it like that?" 

"You mean by having a gold-digging socialite on his arm?" I was really having trouble accepting that my Jonathan was a closet homophobe. Maybe not a homophobe, though, just ignorant--and ignorance could be corrected. 

"So he's one of those--what do you call them-- bi's." 

I groaned and hoped Clark wasn't listening. My pulse spiked when I heard him racing down the stairs, but he just zoomed past us. At the door he stopped and looked at us. "It's Lex! He's hurt!" 

Jonathan and I looked at the blur that had just been our son. Jonathan picked up the truck keys, and I grabbed the cell phone Clark and I had bought Jonathan for his birthday. It was just one of those Tracfones--$7.99 a month for ten minutes--but with all the strange occurrences in Smallville, Clark and I worried when Jonathan was out in the far fields alone. He occasionally grumbled about the cost, but he understood our fears and faithfully attached the thing to his belt when he headed out each morning. 

From beneath the bench seat of the truck, I grabbed the first aid kit and an old blanket I'd used when the heater went out last year. Jonathan turned the ignition and we headed down the road, staring into the winter gloom for a glimpse of our super son. Hopefully, he'd left us a clue. Yes, a red sweater hung on a bush where the road forked. We turned toward the interstate. 

"There!" 

Jonathan nodded and pulled over to the side of the road where Clark was kneeling. Our son was naked from the waist up. I gathered the sweater we'd recovered, the blanket, the kit, and the phone, then slid out of the truck and to his side. 

I couldn't hold back a soft cry when I saw the pale, vaguely human form on the ground. Clark's Tshirt covered the genital area, and I realized Clark was trying to protect Lex's dignity since he had no way of keeping him warm. As Jonathan turned on the man-sized flashlight he kept in the truck, the garish light did nothing to ease my rapidly beating heart. Lex was greenish-gray, swollen-faced, blood-streaked, and decorated with bruises in various states of healing. What scared me most was the hitching shallow rise of his chest, his ribs easily visible to the point that I knew which ones were broken. 

Just keep breathing, Lex, I silently ordered. 

Shoving the blanket at Jonathan, I keyed in 911. 

* * *

Jonathan and I sat beside each other in the glaringly bright waiting room. Jonathan hated hospital waiting rooms and it was my fault. How many times had he sat there and waited for the doctor to come out and tell him that I'd miscarried once again? Three. Three  
possibilities. Three failures. 

I squeezed his hand and angled my head toward Clark, who paced the length of the room, and Jonathan gave a tiny smile. Message received. No failure this time. We had our beautiful son and there wasn't a lot that could take him away from us. Only our own stupidity, but I was determined that that wasn't going to happen. And maybe this was going to make it easier. Surely Jonathan could see how stricken Clark was by Lex's condition. Our baby wasn't scared about a friend; our baby was worried to death about the love of his life. 

Truth be told, I was worried, too. It didn't look good. When we were in the truck, following the ambulance, Clark had admitted to using his X-ray vision and seeing that Lex was all messed up inside. Broken, he'd whispered against my shoulder. I thought he was going to completely lose it then, something I'd been waiting for since Lex's disappearance, but Clark had been strong once we reached the hospital. The federal officers had arrived from Metropolis with a barrage of questions and Clark had answered smoothly, sticking to the lie Jonathan had come up with--that the family had been out for a drive and saw Lex lying on the side of the road. Yes, he knew Lex. Yes, they had interviewed him earlier. No, he wasn't going home. 

Lex had been in surgery three hours by the time Lionel Luthor arrived. He'd been in Florida when he got the news. In Florida--and his son had been missing for two weeks. It took everything I had not to scream at him when he entered, a slew of professionals on his heels. 

"Jacob Michaels, hospital administrator, Mr. Luthor. We want to assure you that your son has the best medical care available in Smallville." 

"Why wasn't he transferred to Metropolis?" 

"His injuries were too severe for a safe transfer. Perhaps after surgery--" 

"What are his chances?" 

"We're working to stop the internal bleeding, but infection is a definite possibility due to exposure and delay in treatment. Some of the injuries were inflicted at the beginning of his ordeal." 

"What are his chances?" 

Bastard. My fingers dug into Jonathan's arm so hard that he patted my hand in order to loosen them. 

"Survival? Seventy-five percent. Survival without some problems that can perhaps be rectified at a later date? Thirty percent." 

"Damaged," Lionel muttered. "I want him transferred to Metropolis University Medical facility as soon as it is reasonably safe to do so." 

"Yes, sir." 

He dismissed the administrator and turned to look at us. "The Kents again. We always seem to meet at times of stress. I'm starting to think Smallville may be dangerous for my son." 

"Well, you're the one who sent him here," Jonathan said. 

"Touche, Kent." 

"Stop it," Clark said firmly. 

"Excuse me, young man?" 

"I said stop it, Mr. Luthor. My best friend is fighting for his life just a couple of rooms away, and I'm not going to let you and my dad get into some pissing match in the meantime. I'm sure there's some executive waiting room that you can occupy." 

I didn't know who was more shocked--me, Jonathan, or Lionel. Certainly Lionel had never had anyone stand up to him like that. 

"I can have you kicked out of this hospital," Lionel threatened when he finally got his voice back. 

"You can try." 

Jonathan's eyes widened and looked at me. This was not the mild-mannered, obedient son we'd raised. This was--this was what we figured he'd someday be. But not now. Not when he was still a gangly teenager who half the time didn't seem to know how to move his newly adult-sized body around. Clark stood tall, his arms crossed, his eyes defiantly assessing Lionel. 

Who assessed right back and apparently decided this was not a war to be fought at this time. "Is he right, Michaels? Is there a place that would make for a more comfortable wait than this public area?" 

Michaels nodded and Lionel nodded to the others. They all silently left. 

I gazed at Clark. 

"You know why he has all that hair, don't you? The beard, everything?" Clark asked bitterly. 

I shook my head. 

"To make sure Lex knows what he can never have." Clark collapsed his long limbs into a chair. "I'm sorry I was rude." 

Jonathan started to laugh, but I shook my head. Clark didn't need that kind of encouragement. "He's a very powerful man, Clark. You must be careful." Our family had too many secrets to have Lionel Luthor as a real enemy. 

"I know, Mom. But it's just so unfair that he's strutting around and Lex is--Lex is all cut open. Lex is worth a hundred of him." 

"Life isn't--" 

Jonathan stopped when Clark and I both glared at him. Couldn't he see Clark wasn't in the mood for platitudes? 

"He's still Lex's father," Jonathan pointed out. "It's up to him whether you can see him or not." 

Clark's eyes locked on the far wall. "Not really." 

"Pick your battles carefully, son." 

Clark rolled his eyes and made no other reply. 

Well, my family was not reacting well to the stress. After all the years of secrets and the most recent developments in Clark's life, I thought we'd do better than this. "Jonathan, why don't you go get us some coffee. It could be a while before--" 

"You can leave if you want," Clark said softly. 

"We're not going to leave you here alone, baby." If something went wrong in the operating room, Clark would not face it by himself. Besides, it was quieter here with hospital security and the Feds keeping the press at bay. 

Clark nodded glumly and Jonathan went for coffee. 

* * *

"Hi," a man said, dressed in hospital greens with the matching cap. "The nurse says that you're here waiting on information about Lex Luthor." 

"I'm his best friend." 

The doctor smiled at Clark's eager reply. "I'm Dr. Burgess, and your best friend, young man, is doing surprisingly well at the moment." 

"Lex is always full of surprises." 

The doctor's eyebrows arched. "Seems you know him better than--others." 

I heard the words the doctor didn't say: Clark knew Lex better than his own father did. But then Clark had probably spent more time with Lex than Lionel had. 

"Is he going to be okay?" 

The doctor's eyes were kind. "That's up to God and Lex, son." 

Clark smiled. "Then it's a done deal." 

"You have a lot of faith." 

"God and I had a long talk about Lex in a river a while back. And Lex has plans of world domination. Trust me, he's not going to give those up easily." 

Dr. Burgess looked amused, Jonathan looked appalled, and I was just surprised because I hadn't been sure Clark believed in God anymore. Not after our revelation about his true origins. "Is there any chance Clark will be able to see Lex to--" I looked at the clock on the wall-- "this morning?" 

The doctor shook his head. "Not only is he heavily sedated, but they're preparing him for transport to the Met U facility. The best thing you fine folk can do is go home and get some rest. And, son, keep up that dialogue with God." 

"Yes, sir." 

I stretched and started picking up the coffee cups we'd left scattered about. "Guess we should get home." 

"I need to use the..." Clark pointed to the maleshaped figure on the door down the hall. 

I shooed him away and stretched tired bones. Jonathan lightly kneaded my shoulders. "It's been a long night." 

"Probably not going to be the last, Jonathan. Clark takes friendship seriously. He's going to want to be with Lex every step of the way." 

"I know. Why do I have the feeling that everything we've taught our boy is going to come back and bite us on the butt when it comes to that Luthor?" 

"Excuse me." The doctor stood in the doorway. "I wanted to get your names so your boy won't have any trouble when he comes by the hospital in Metropolis. Security is going to be extremely tight." 

"We're the Kents, Dr. Burgess. I'm Jonathan. This is my wife, Martha. And our son is Clark." 

"I'll see that your names are put on the visitors' list." 

"Thank you for being so kind to us, especially Clark, doctor," I said, having meant to thank him earlier. 

"I've had the same best friend for over thirty years, Mrs. Kent, so I know the inherent power in such a relationship. And quite frankly, young Mr. Luthor is going to need all the support he can get." 

"They messed him up pretty badly, didn't they?" Jonathan asked softly. 

The doctor gave a sharp nod. "I'm truly hoping Lex is as strong as Clark avows--mentally as well as physically. And," he said with a shrug of regret, "that's about all I can tell you without Lionel Luthor's express consent." 

"We found him, so..." 

Jonathan was talking about the things we hadn't discussed, like Lex's nudity and the number of bruises and scratches on his lower body. 

"Something wrong, Dr. Burgess?" Clark asked anxiously as he hurried toward us. 

"No, just making sure you can come visit Lex. And I'll probably consult with you once he's awake and talking--you'd probably be the first one to notice if there are any changes we need to be aware of." 

"Like with his personality? He was hit on the head again, wasn't he?" 

The doctor was startled. "Again? What do you mean? His recent medical reports--" 

"Lex didn't see a doctor, but in the past several months he's been knocked on the head with a pistol, and had his head slammed into something hard twice." 

"Did he lose consciousness?" 

"Not when he was pistol-whipped, but yes, the two head slams knocked him out cold." 

Clark winced, and I knew he was blaming himself for the injuries. He'd been the one who knocked out Lex the second time. Of course, Lex had been trying to kill him at the time, but that didn't make a lot of difference to Clark. He would always feel guilty about hurting his friend. 

"Okay, mentally adding a review of his medical history as part of our consultation, Clark. I'll see you in Metropolis." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Let's get out of here before the morning news crews arrive," Jonathan said, urging us toward the elevator. 

"I like Dr. Burgess," Clark said as the elevator began to drop. "I think Lex will like him, too." 

* * *

"How is he?" 

I smiled and joined Jonathan on our bed. "Out like a light. I don't think he's slept well since Lex's disappearance." 

"And it follows that you haven't slept well," Jonathan concluded. "You're always so in tune with that boy." 

"I'll always be his mother, Jonathan." 

He kissed me, a light peck that said "I love you, baby, but I'm dog-tired." I could relate and we stretched out beneath the sheets. 

"Jonathan?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could Clark ever disappoint you so badly that you would treat him like Lionel treats Lex?" 

"I wouldn't treat an animal the way Lionel treats anyone." 

"But Lex isn't just anyone. He's the man's son. Why do we seem to care more about that than he does?" 

"Rich people live differently." 

"Rich people can still love. Do you think it's because--because Lex loves purple?" Jonathan's earlier remark was still bothering me. I had to know he wouldn't hurt Clark. 

"That's no excuse to let your son walk into a dangerous situation with bad information--heck, Lionel just straight out lied to Lex about Level 3\. I also can't believe he was in Florida. If that had been Clark that was missing, I wouldn't have moved five feet from home." 

"Even if he loved purple?" 

"Even if he came to earth in a purple spaceship, Martha." 

I giggled and laid my head on his broad shoulder. 

Without that to worry about I drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

Clark didn't need to slam the door for me to know he was upset. My heart skipped a beat. Had something happened to Lex? That first day had been a Friday. We'd all overslept, so we kept Clark out of school and I'd driven him up to Metropolis later in the day. Lex was still out of it, but Clark had sat gamely by his side talking about all sorts of things that I couldn't understand. It was strange. I'd figured that Clark and Lex talked mainly about Clark's interests (teens were inherently self-centered), but as I listened to my son's one-way  
conversation, I could tell they talked about everything. Clark actually read the business section of the Daily Planet aloud, filling in asides that he knew Lex would have made if able. They also "discussed" literature, politics, philosophy, mutual acquaintances... Clark talked for hours and none of it was the "kidstuff" I thought it would be. 

These two were closer than even I'd thought. To be fair, Clark had tried to make me and Jonathan understand. To my shame, we hadn't hid our shock very well when he declared Lex was his best friend. 

"What about Pete, Clark?" Jonathan had asked sharply. "And Chloe?" 

Clark had given a self-conscious shrug. "They're still my friends. But--they don't understand me like Lex does. Lex knows, Dad. He knows what it's like to not quite fit in, to hide your true nature because no one will accept what you really are." 

"We accept you, Clark." 

"I'm your son, Mom. You have to accept me. Lex accepts me just because he does." 

"You haven't told him anything, have you?" Jonathan asked in a panic. 

"No. He's asked...he's pushed, but no, I haven't told him anything about who I am or where I came from. Yet, he still accepts because...because we are the same." 

"You're nothing like a Luthor, son." 

Clark had shrugged again and headed upstairs to rest his surprisingly bruised body. He'd stopped midway and turned to face his father. "Not a Luthor, Dad, but a Lex." 

Since it was the weekend and Lex was improving, we'd allowed Clark to drive himself to Metropolis on Saturday and Sunday. Saturday he'd come home all aglow because Lex had finally regained consciousness. He hadn't been able to recall what had happened to him, but he knew Clark and all the other important facts about his life. Dr. Burgess had given Clark a thumbs up as he left the room. 

But now it was Sunday evening and something was wrong. 

"Clark?" 

"The bastard left him," he muttered. 

I wasn't going to get much out of him in this mood, but I hadn't raised the boy for the past thirteen years for nothing. "Come on. I have your supper warming in the oven." 

"I stopped by a fast food place on the way home," he said, even as he took his place at the table. 

I set a glass of milk beside him. Between the coffee at the hospital and the soda he'd probably had on the way home, no wonder he was edgy. "How's Lex?" 

"Scared. He hates hospitals. He spent over a month in one after--after the meteors. Then there was another month spent there while Lionel put him through treatment after treatment trying to get his skin and hair back to normal. A fine way to make a little kid think he wasn't good enough the way he was." 

I grabbed a potholder and opened the oven so Clark wouldn't see the anger in my eyes. 

"Then, there was his mother. She spent the last few weeks of her life in a hospital bed. Lex was with her the whole time. He'd left his boarding school without permission. Lionel tried to force him to go back, but his mother had wanted Lex there, and I guess she could control Lionel to some degree. The sad thing is that Lex wasn't even with her most of the time. He was busy trying to find someone who could save her." 

I set the plate on the table and pictured a twelve-year-old Lex running around trying to save his mother. It was a wonder the boy was sane at all. "So Lex has good reasons to hate hospitals." 

"Right. Put that with the fact that they broke all ten of his fingers, he's on a catheter because of the damage to his kidneys, there are about fifteen IV's running into his arms and hands, and there are monitors stuck on every part of his body--and basically you have a man trapped and bound in his own version of hell. Lionel knows this, and Lionel left." 

"Left?" 

"He's halfway to Hong Kong by now, I guess." 

Lionel left? His son was just a day out of Intensive Care and Lionel left? The son of a bitch. The son of a bitch. "The son of a bitch!" 

"Martha?" 

Jonathan had been napping in front of the TV-- standard Sunday afternoon behavior--but either my loudness or the unfamiliar language coming from my lips had him awake and on alert. 

"Jonathan," I said calmly. "I want Lionel Luthor killed." 

"Martha!" 

"Then maybe just maimed. Is that too much to ask?" My voice broke as I pictured that pale young man alone with a bunch of strangers, and incapable of doing anything for himself. All ten of his fingers? That was indicative of torture, wasn't it? 

I felt faint and sat down, dropping my head to the table. I would have exchanged my life for any of the three little babies of mine that hadn't made it. Lionel had a beautiful, intelligent son who was--albeit reluctantly--following in his very footsteps, and he was rejecting him at every turn. How could he do that? 

I reached out my hand and clasped it around Clark's. "I love you, baby. You know that, don't you?" 

"Always, Mom. Can I miss school tomorrow?" 

"What's going on?" Jonathan asked. 

We told him about Lionel leaving Lex to fend for himself. Jonathan was shaken, but he was adamant that Clark had to attend school. 

"You missed several days when Lex first disappeared, Clark, and you know you can only miss so many before they'll want you to attend summer school--and we really need you around the farm in the summer. Besides, how will you be able to get a scholarship with that on your record?" 

Sensible, but-- "Do as your father tells you, Clark. I'll go check on Lex while I run my morning errands, okay?" 

Clark picked up his empty plate and bent down to kiss my cheek. "Thanks, Mom." 

I could tell Jonathan wasn't exactly happy with my decision, but I waited until Clark was in his room before confronting him. "What is it?" 

"He's a grown man, Martha." 

"He's twenty-two years old, Jonathan. Besides, grown men can't be scared?" 

"He's not yours." 

No, he was Clark's. "What you want to say is that he's a Luthor. Name one bad thing you can hold him responsible for, Jonathan." 

"He was raised to be duplicitous." 

"And Clark was raised to be a farmer. We both know that's not his future." 

"It's too late to save Lex Luthor." 

"Clark doesn't think so. I agree." 

"Why? Because he's lying in a hospital. Trust me, he doesn't want or need your pity." 

"And he doesn't have it. I've watched Lex for a while now. He's not that bad, and Clark's grades have improved since he's been hanging around him." 

Jonathan snorted. "So his genius is contagious?" 

"No, it's just that Lex--Lex gets Clark thinking. I was amazed at the thoughts coming from Clark while he was talking to Lex. Lex challenges Clark intellectually." 

"And we're just dumb country hicks?" 

"No, we're just his parents. At one point that gave us credibility; now that he's a teen, it's a liability." 

"So he goes to the wise and experienced Luthor for advice? You don't find that--dangerous?" 

"Lex is experienced in ways we can't understand." 

"Thank God." 

I shook my head. "Lex understands what it feels like to be different, Jonathan. Clark is no longer the lone alien resident of Smallville. In fact, he's not even the alieniest alien anymore. He can hide most of the time. Lex can't." 

"Lex advertises with his fast cars and flamboyant dressing." 

I shrugged. "Why not? It's not like he can do anything about the other ways he sticks out." 

"He could wear a wig." Even Jonathan couldn't keep a straight face for that one. "I know, I know. All my friends sat around talking about William Shatner's rug, too. But even if Lex isn't as bad as his father, by virtue of who he is he attracts attention, attention and scrutiny that Clark doesn't need." 

"Clark knows that, but it doesn't matter. Something...bonded between the two of them when Clark saved Lex's life or maybe it happened when Lex saved Clark from that stupid and dangerous scarecrow tradition. They--connected, Jonathan, and it's going to take more than just a few close calls or our disapproval to separate them." 

"Maybe if the message came from you, not me. Clark knows I'm biased." 

I washed the plate Clark had placed in the sink. "I tried that when Lex's past came out." 

"You mean when he slaughtered all our cattle, had a severed hand delivered right in front of poor Lana Lang, and Clark had to save his moneyed butt one more time?" 

I nodded as Jonathan took the plate and dried it for me. "I told him it'd be better if they cooled their relationship a bit." 

"And?" 

"Clark pointed out that we all had skeletons in our closets." 

"His adoption." 

"Exactly. What could I say? Still, I think he tried, but there's just something about Lex--" 

"That attracts Clark like a bright shiny nickel. I know, but I can't see anything positive coming from this relationship. And I'm not sure we should be encouraging it." 

I took Jonathan's hand and led him to the living room. We sat close to each other on the sofa. "You mean I shouldn't go see Lex tomorrow." 

"Yes." 

"And what do you think Clark is going to get out of school tomorrow if he's moping around worried that Lex is by himself?" 

He sighed. "This is all Lionel Luthor's fault." 

"I won't disagree. People should be licensed before they are allowed to have children." 

"Lionel would have just bought one." 

I rested my head on his shoulder. "True." 

He slipped an arm around my waist, drawing us closer. "You just can't help being a mother, can you?" 

"I'm sorry I'm disappointing you." 

"I'm not disappointed. Just be careful; I don't want that boy hurting you either." 

I patted his chest and thought about all I had to lose if I was wrong about Lex. 

I definitely would be careful. 

* * *

The VIP wing of Met U Medical was impressively appointed--real hardwood furniture, plush carpeting, wallpaper instead of bland paint. But it was still part of a hospital and nothing could be done about the smell or the sound of the support equipment. 

After passing through a barrage of security, I was escorted to Lex's suite. 

"Mr. Luthor, you have a visitor," the nurse said to the figure lying in the partially raised bed. 

If it hadn't been for his eyes and various bruises, he would have blended in quite well with the stark white sheets. If it was possible, he looked worse than when I saw him by the side of the road. Nevertheless, he managed a smile when he saw me. 

"Mrs. Kent! Don't tell me: Clark sent you to babysit me." 

"Not quite," I said with my own smile. He raised a pale eyebrow. "Okay, maybe Clark did indicate you might want some company." 

He gestured toward the chair next to the bed. His hands were bandaged, splints attached to every finger. I fought hard to keep any trace of pity out of my eyes. 

"Clark worries too much," he said as I sat. 

"You mean a lot to him." 

He smiled again. "The feelings are mutual. I'm sorry he made you come all this way." 

"Maybe I came all this way for my own reasons, Lex. Is it so unreasonable to think someone else in the Kent family is worried about you?" 

"My apologies. I would say that I'm not at my best, but that would be stating the obvious." 

"How was your night?" 

"Well-drugged." 

I could see why Clark liked him. This was a depressing atmosphere, yet his manner had me smiling time and time again. His practiced movements and speech had irritated me in the past, and were probably the major reasons Jonathan didn't trust him. Lex never just walked-- he strolled, he glided, he ambled. And he never just talked--he emoted, he chided, he smirked. But I could see now that he knew no other way to behave. It was pure, honest Lex, and like everything else about him, he left it up to others to decide whether to accept or reject it. 

It was noon before I knew it. I'd told Jonathan that I would only stay a few hours. But although he hid it well, I could see how frightened Lex was. He flinched each time a nurse or doctor entered the room, especially if they were male. He might not remember the details of his captivity, but apparently his body did. A girl I went to high school with had been raped when we were juniors. Six months later, she had committed suicide. 

I decided to stay. 

When Dr. Burgess arrived to perform a rather extensive examination, I excused myself and went to a pay phone. Jonathan answered on the fifth ring. 

"Hello?" 

"Jonathan." 

"Where are you?" 

"Still in Metropolis." 

Silence. 

"Bad traffic?" 

I knew he wasn't going to like it. "I can't leave him here by himself, Jonathan. It'd just be too cruel. He was raped," I hissed into the receiver, "and now he's surrounded by strange men and has no way to defend himself." 

"He's in a hospital, not the state penitentiary." 

I hung up the phone and went to the cafeteria for lunch. Forty-five minutes later, I walked back into Lex's room. 

"I thought you were headed back to Smallville by now, Mrs. Kent," he said, obviously startled to see me. 

"I don't remember telling you goodbye," I said lightly as I took the chair I'd claimed for my own. 

"Not everyone does." 

"I'm not everyone." 

He gave a tired smile. "Touche." 

Something wasn't right about the way he wasn't looking at me. I'd watched him all morning. Me, one of the female nurses and Dr. Burgess, he'd looked straight into our eyes. The others he'd subtlely distanced himself from. And now he was withdrawing from me. Why? I hadn't-- 

"You're remembering, aren't you?" I could sense the fear in him. 

"There were four of them," he whispered. "Three men, one woman. Their sister, I think." 

I reached for his hand and found it trembling. "You need to tell the officers," I said, rubbing my thumb soothingly across the oddly smooth skin. There was only a small patch not covered by the tape holding the splints in place. All ten fingers. Had they smashed his hands...or broken each finger one at a time? 

One at a time. I hadn't wanted to stay as he told the details of his kidnapping to the federal officer assigned to his case. But when I moved to leave, glittering eyes stopped me in my tracks. So I sat there and stroked his arm as he told a story that was full of horror, pain, and humiliation. Beatings and brutal rapes, forced couplings with the woman, locked in a cage when they weren't molesting him. Barely enough food and water to survive. A desperate escape as they were moving him out of state to dump his body. 

"They threw me in the back of their truck--" 

"Do you know the make and model?" 

Lex stared at them. 

"Describe it to Clark," I suggested. "He can probably figure it out." 

Lex nodded. "They didn't tie me up. I guess they thought I was too broken to try anything. I waited until they were going a good clip, then flung myself over the side." 

"That was a very dangerous thing to do, Mr. Luthor," the agent commented. 

I felt the muscles in Lex's arm coil, and I knew he was on the verge of becoming his father's son. And while I thought the agent deserved to be flayed alive, Lex was still very far from well. He didn't need to waste energy that could be better spent toward healing. 

"Lex." His head whipped toward me. I shook my head slightly, hopefully conveying that this man wasn't worth the effort. He took a deep breath and released it. 

"The four of them were crammed into the cab of the truck so no one could turn around to see me. Being night helped as well. When I realized I hadn't managed to kill myself, I discovered I wasn't too far away from the Smallville exit. The rest is still a blur." 

"Clark found you," I said softly. 

Lex smiled. "He always does." 

Relating his memories took its toll on Lex, and he slept most of the afternoon. But it wasn't a peaceful sleep, and when the door opened revealing Clark, I was relieved. I knew I was a poor substitute for my son. Lex would relax more in his presence. 

I wasn't sure what I felt when I saw Jonathan come up behind Clark. 

I motioned for them to stay in the outer area, gathered my things, and joined them. "Clark," I said quickly. "He remembered." 

Clark's eyes opened wide, then quickly focused on the closed door. 

"He's resting, but not very comfortably." 

"God, Mom. What should I do?" 

"Be his friend, baby. I know you know how to do that." 

Clark nodded and reached for the door. "I may be home late," he warned. 

I hugged him. "I won't worry if you don't make it home," I whispered. 

He kissed my cheek and went to be with Lex. 

"Martha," Jonathan began. 

"Don't," I said softly. "If you'd listened to that boy tell his story, you'd know why he needs to be comforted by his best friend. So there's not going to be an argument, okay?" 

Jonathan opened his mouth, then closed it. 

"I need to see Dr. Burgess before I leave." 

He followed me quietly to the office. 

"Mrs. Kent, is there a problem with Lex? I was just informed that he'd made a statement to the federal agent. I wish I had known beforehand." 

"He's handling it, Dr. Burgess, and now that Clark is with him, I think he'll be okay. I'm here because I need the contact number for Lionel Luthor." 

"I can't--" 

"It's for your patient's own good," I said firmly. 

He stared at me and slid a business card in my direction, along with the phone. 

I must give Lionel Luthor credit; he must have been concerned about his son because the number belonged to his personal cell phone. "Mr. Luthor, this is Martha Kent." 

"Mrs. Kent, is there a problem with Lex? I'm assuming he's the one who gave you this number." 

I ignored the searching comment. "Mr. Luthor, if you lo--if you care for your son, you will hire the best female bodyguard your money can buy and send her to him immediately." 

"Why?" 

No emotion at all. If I hadn't been so angry, I probably would have shivered at the cool tone. "Because he just remembered what it felt like to be habitually gang-raped by three men who happen to still be on the loose," I said bluntly, earning gasps from Jonathan and Dr. Burgess. 

"I'll see to it immediately." 

The phone went dead. 

I replaced the receiver, thanked Dr. Burgess, and left the office. 

"Martha?" 

I turned to the man who silently followed me. With a small cry, I stepped into his arms. He held me as I wept the tears I'd been holding back all day. 

"Take me home, Jonathan," I managed to say after a while. "Please take me home." 

* * *

We didn't hear from Clark all night, and I wasn't sure whether that was good news or bad. Finally, the phone rang just about noon. 

"Mom?" 

"Clark? I was hoping you'd call sooner. How is he? Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?" 

"What I need for you to do is go over to Lex's place." 

"He needs me to pick up something for him?" 

"No, I need you to make sure everything's ready for him. He spoke to his staff, and he's confident that it'll all be ready when he gets there, but Mrs. Nolan, the housekeeper, is new. If Mrs. Palmer was still there, I wouldn't be worried." 

I sat down. "Lex is being released from the hospital today?" No, it was impossible. He hadn't healed that much overnight. 

"I told you Lex hates hospitals, Mom. He's arranged for private nursing and all the necessary equipment. It seems the only reason he consented to staying in the hospital for as long as he did was because he thought their security was better. But Mr. Luthor sent a bodyguard who Lex actually trusts, so he's coming home." 

Me and my big mouth. "And Dr. Burgess is okay with this?" 

"He says Lex's aversion to a hospital stay is probably more detrimental than the limitations of home care." 

Dr. Burgess was probably right. "What time is Lex being released?" 

"Um, we're in the limo and just got on the interstate." 

"Clark!" 

"I called as soon as he fell asleep, Mom. He didn't want me bothering you." 

Lex. So polite. So independent. So not used to having anyone he could depend on. "The manor will be ready by the time you get there, Clark." 

"Thanks, Mom." 

I hung up and checked the clock. Not nearly enough time. 

"I heard the extension ring in the barn. Was that Clark?" Jonathan asked, the screen door banging behind him. 

"Yes, he and Lex are on their way home." 

"Lex? I thought--" 

"Yes, well, he hates hospitals and trusts the bodyguard his father sent to him. So he's coming home." 

"Heh. Lionel Luthor might be scum, but this proves he's not a complete idiot. It's nice to know I'm not the only man you scare the heck out of when he has the audacity to get between you and a child you are determined to help. Of course, Dr. Burgess also knew not to argue with you yesterday." 

I gave him a sad smile. "Sorry you married such a bitch?" 

"A bitch with a heart the size of Canada. I'm not sorry at all." 

"A comment like that would probably get you laid on a normal day, but I have to get over to the manor and make sure everything's ready for Lex." 

Jonathan frowned. "I don't recall you being in Luthor's employ." 

He wasn't the only one who could frown. "I'm not doing this at Lex's request, but our son's." I looked up into the eyes that were the ones I looked into each night and every morning for most of my adult life. "Whether you approve or not, Lex is very important to Clark. I know you wish to God that they had never met, but apparently God had other plans. Lex is a part of Clark's life. You have to reconcile yourself to that fact, Jonathan, or you risk losing your son." 

"So you're only helping because Clark wants you to?" 

I definitely did not marry a "dumb farmer." "No. I like Lex. There's something about him that appeals to me." 

"He's needy." 

"Yes, but..." It seemed a disservice to Lex to say that I only reacted to the motherless boy in him. He'd made me laugh yesterday. And I really respected the way he'd treated the medical staff. Despite his fears as well as his pain, he'd been polite, teasing even. Whatever he was, he was certainly not a clone of his father. In the long run that could make him better or worse than Lionel. It was up to people like me and Clark to make sure that it was for the better. Wonder what Jonathan would say if I told him that he was more in league with Lionel than Lex was in creating the ultimate Luthor heir? "Lex has had a difficult life--" 

"Private schools, servants, a garage full of expensive cars. Yes, I can see how difficult it's been." 

Sometimes I regretted not being a violent person. "He's been bald since he was nine years old. Even someone as old and decrepit as you are," I said with a teasing smile because he knew I was only a few years his junior, "should be able to remember how cruel children can be, especially when it comes to a physical deformity. His mother died when he was just a boy, leaving him in the sole care of Lionel Luthor. You should be able to sympathize with that." 

"We all have problems, Martha." 

"Yes, and we all have someone to share them with. Lex doesn't. Can't you feel it, Jonathan? Can't you feel the loneliness in that boy?" 

"He's a man, sweetheart. A man with a history that's so out of control that even the tabloid reprints sell." 

"Yet, here he is--at the grand old age of twentytwo \--successfully running a multi-million dollar factory, offering himself as a hostage in exchange for a group of high school students, backing another high school student in her own business, and gracefully putting up with a prejudice that, quite frankly, would probably have me telling off everyone in Smallville." 

Jonathan shook his head. "He's a Luthor." 

"He's his own man--until the forces against him get so great that he'll have no choice in becoming his father. Don't be a part of that force, Jonathan. Don't make him into something that he's not--yet." 

A shake of his still blond head. "He's going to break Clark's heart and yours." 

"We knew it was just a matter of time before someone broke Clark's heart," I said, hoping that maybe he'd hear what I wasn't saying. 

"Lex Luthor isn't capable of being anyone's friend. I don't understand why neither of you can see it." 

"And we can't understand why you can't see what we see in Lex." 

"Not every lost boy is yours." 

"And every lost boy deserves the opportunity to be found." 

"Just remember that song about the lady taking in the snake and then being shocked when the snake bit her. All things will be true to their nature." 

I shrugged. "Which means I have to be true to mine. Warm up some leftovers for lunch, and I should be home in time to make dinner. 

* * *

There really wasn't much for me to do at Luthor Manor but watch the capable staff prepare Lex's personal quarters according to the instructions received from Dr. Burgess. The suite was huge, easily the same square footage as the main floor of the farmhouse. The bed itself was a huge burnished wood monster requiring four men to break it down so it could be replaced with a hospital-type bed that could be raised and lowered for the occupant's comfort. The bathroom was spacious with an oversized tub equipped with pulsating jets and a glass encased shower. It was a bright room full of mirrored surfaces and recessed lights. I couldn't help but notice there was no shaving equipment evident. I knew Lex was bald but I thought maybe he could have had slowgrowing facial hair, and I blushed as I  
remembered the whispered debate I'd overheard at Nell's one day about whether Lex was completely hairless--all over. 

Maybe I should ask Clark. 

That thought had me leaving Lex's suite and wandering aimlessly through the rest of the place. I was surprised that no one tried to stop me or had even asked why I was there. Had Clark called ahead and told them I was coming? And if he had, what did that say about Clark's place in Lex's life? 

Another place I really didn't want to go, although I was pretty sure they were still just friends. I'd watched how they touched each other at the hospital. There weren't any telltale signs of intimacy of that nature--no clandestine brushes of fingertips, no tender strokes. When they had touched, there was familiarity, closeness, but no sexual overtones. Clark touched Lex like he was touching me or his father. What was more telling was how Lex responded to Clark's touch. He didn't flinch, throwing up the automatic barriers that fell into place when anyone approached too far into his personal space. Instead, he allowed Clark to just step right up next to him, in his space, against his skin, and into the world that only he inhabited. 

I'd found out a lot about Lex just by watching him, both awake and asleep, and maybe I figured out why Jonathan was so put off by him. Jonathan was used to cows acting like cows and people acting like--well, people, the people Jonathan knew anyway. So to Jonathan there were two kinds of acceptable human behavior--people acted like they came from Smallville or they came from Metropolis. He didn't exactly like the people from Metropolis, but he would give them the chance to see if they could learn to be like people from Smallville. Hence, our marriage. He liked the people from Smallville, although he was a bit tense when they acted like people from Metropolis. Hence, the wariness between Nell and him. I would like to think it was because of me, but it wasn't. Nell wanted to be what she wasn't, and that just didn't sit right with Jonathan. 

Despite Clark's origins, our son was all Smallville to Jonathan. All of Clark's friends were Smallville, even Chloe who he placed in the category with me--Metropolis born with a Smallville heart. Lionel Luthor was, of course, all Metropolis, maybe more Metropolis than anyone. Therefore his son should have been pure Metropolis. But he wasn't. Yet, he wasn't Smallville either. He was something else entirely. Something foreign. Something alien. Something outside the two boxes that Jonathan put people into. Lex looked and sounded like Metropolis, yet there was something Smallville in the way he treated Clark and his workers. But it was all a sham and Jonathan could see that. The Metropolis in Lex was a pretense, to both appease and piss off Lionel Luthor. The Smallville in Lex was false too, a way of making Clark comfortable and getting people to side with him. The real Lex was unnamed, and that scared Jonathan. He was wary of Lex because he had nothing to compare Lex to. There was no model for him to follow to gauge the young man, to predict what Lex would or wouldn't do in a given situation. Lex exchanging himself for Clark's class was a major shock to Jonathan. Lex having Clark investigated bordered on being expected behavior, but for him to stop the investigation at Clark's request was confusing. 

No wonder Jonathan's fear and frustration ended up with him lashing out at Lex. 

And Lex didn't even respond to that in a predictable way. He didn't get angry like a Metropolis person would, and he didn't back down like a Smallville person would. Instead, he stood his ground, quietly and passively, yet forcibly. It shouldn't have been possible. It made no sense...and it was so Lex. 

That was what I had discovered, spending the day by his side. Lex was a jumble of contradictions and impossibilities. He defied norms and textbook definitions, yet could don the appearance of those definitions with a quick change of body language or a glib movement of his not-quiteforked tongue. He was a master of deception, of shadows, even when washed in honesty. 

And this was the person my son had given his heart to. Yes, I could understand Jonathan's fear. Clark was putting his faith in quicksilver, which was both poisonous and constantly changing shape. Lex wouldn't--couldn't--be confined, couldn't be expected to be in the place where he was left. Lex would always be leaping ahead or taking a sharp turn even though the road appeared straight. Clark would need every bit of his extraordinary speed to keep up with Lex. And maybe that was what Clark needed. My son was "more than human" and even if he took to heart what Jonathan and I tried to teach him about the responsibility that came with great power, there would probably come a point where he would wonder if the world would be better off if he just took over. Or worse, he might think humanity just wasn't worth it and take off for something new in the universe. There was no danger of either happening as long as Lex was in his life. Lex would make him aware of the folly of thinking he could control the world, and Lex would keep him fighting to make the world a better place. Even if they became bitter enemies, Clark wouldn't leave Lex to fend for himself. He was that fiercely protective of Lex. 

Lex was equally as protective of Clark. Always hovering in the background, waiting for Clark to need him. Always quick to preserve the relationship Clark has with Jonathan. How could Jonathan not see that Lex wanted Clark to have what he'd never had, a father who loved him without condition? With all the young bimbos Lionel paraded around on his arm, it was obvious that if he needed another heir, he could have one, so Lex knew something in Lionel cared for him. But it was a love plagued and tainted with games and competitions and demands. 

Of course, Jonathan's love wasn't as pure as Lex idolized. My husband had his own set of demands for Clark. The difference between Lionel and Jonathan was in Jonathan's reaction when Clark disappointed him. So far, his love had been stronger than his disapproval. Would that change when he could no longer deny what was happening between Clark and Lex? 

"The limousine is pulling through the gate, Mrs. Kent." 

A striking woman in a severe pantsuit got out of the car first, mirrored shades turning in my direction and holding until a hand gently shoved at her. 

"It's just my mom, Mercy." 

Clark exited the car next, grinning at me. "Mercy is Lex's bodyguard. 'Bout time he had one, don't you think?" 

I nodded, not mentioning my part in obtaining her. My eyes widened when another woman got out of the car. Finally, a familiar bald head appeared. I couldn't help but smirk at the way my son oh, so casually, moved the second woman out of the way so that he could be at Lex's side. 

"Quite a harem you have going there, Lex," I said teasingly and tried to hide my shock at his paleness. He had no business out of bed. I hurried and took a position at his side as well. 

"Mrs. Kent, what are you doing here?" Lex asked, his voice badly disguising his fatigue. 

"Welcoming you home, Lex, and making sure you're in bed as soon as possible. Am I going to have to have a discussion with Dr. Burgess?" 

"I assure you Nurse Simpson," he nodded at the other woman, "monitored my health the entire trip." 

I shook my head. "No more talking. Get him to bed, Clark." 

An hour later, Clark bounded into Lex's office where I'd been talking with the nurse. She seemed capable, but I was afraid that when Lex was feeling stronger he would either charm or bully her into doing things his way. I told her if she ever felt backed into a corner that she should give me a call. Yes, it was presumptuous of me, and heaven only knew if I would have any sway over Lex, but I knew Lex respected me to at least listen to my concerns. 

"How's Lex?" I asked unnecessarily. Clark was beaming from ear to ear. 

"Sleeping soundly for the first time since the kidnapping, I think. Coming home was the best thing for him. Mr. Luthor finally did something good for Lex, hiring Mercy." 

I kept my mouth shut and made a mental note to tell Jonathan to be quiet about it as well. "You can ride home with me," I said, grabbing my purse. 

"Mom." 

I shook my head. "Your dad isn't happy with either one of us. I think it would be best if we delayed drawing battle lines until the last possible moment." 

Clark sighed. "Give me five minutes to write him a note, okay?" 

A note? I couldn't even get him to scribble down a two-word sentence about where he was heading if he left the house while I or his father was out. But Lex got a five-minute note. 

It must be love. 

* * *

Out of the hospital, Lex healed rapidly. By the next day, Nurse Simpson was calling me, complaining about Lex's lack of cooperation. By Day Three, she was gone. By Day Five, his outward appearance had improved so much that I stopped checking his forehead for fever. Of course the soft tissue damage healed first, but even the broken bones were nearly fully mended within two weeks. This was abnormal, but it was also Smallville. No one, not even Lex's Metropolis doctors, made any comment. 

With Lex back to being a functioning captain of industry, I went back to being a simple farmer's wife. A month after the bulk of the excitement, I was in the kitchen mixing cake batter for a bake sale to help out the local women's shelter. The television was on in the living room as a distraction, but with the mixer going I wasn't paying much attention to it--until a familiar profile filled the screen. Lex? Turning off the mixer, I crossed the room rapidly and plopped down on the sofa directly in front of the TV. 

"Mr. Luthor, what is your initial reaction?" a tall, slim woman asked. 

"I am relieved but saddened," Lex replied solemnly. "That my assailants can no longer harm me has lifted quite a burden from my shoulders. That they were all killed in an armed battle with the authorities is a tragedy." 

"Come on, Luthor," a male reporter, middle-aged and unkempt, drawled. "You really expect us to believe that you aren't pleased with the Las Vegas' cops bungling of the situation? Surely you weren't looking forward to testifying in open court about all the things they did to you." 

"Asshole!" I yelled at the screen, temporarily forgetting that simple farmers' wives don't use that word. But Lex didn't deserve to be asked questions like that. 

"I don't have any expectations of reporters like you, Mr. Randolph," Lex said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the ranks of the reporters after the insolent question. "What I was looking forward to was finding answers to questions such as why I was chosen and what my kidnappers ultimate intentions were. So no, I am not pleased by their deaths at the hands of competent law enforcement officials. The situation was unfortunate and I'm sure, unavoidable. I am merely grateful that no one else will have to go through the ordeal that I went through at the hands of the Hesse family." 

"What are your immediate plans, Mr. Luthor?" The insensitive reporter had been shoved out of the way and an earnest young man had taken his place. 

"As you can imagine, I want the case closed as soon as possible. Therefore, I'm flying to Las Vegas to secure a positive ID of the late felons." 

I reached for the phone and called Smallville High. 

* * *

"Clark is where?" Jonathan asked when he saw there were only two settings in place for dinner. 

"Las Vegas." 

"With Lex Luthor?" 

I nodded. Maybe I should have explained what had occurred earlier in the afternoon first, but Jonathan's question had come right when I was determining what was missing in the spaghetti sauce I'd made. "They found the people who kidnapped Lex. It was a family called Hesse. Three brothers and a sister. They were living in a motel just outside Las Vegas. They were talking about Lex while in their room and the walls were so thin that a neighbor overheard and contacted the police. The police didn't wait on the FBI and something went wrong when they went to apprehend them. Anyway, the entire family ended up killed. Lex went to identify the remains as his kidnappers. I thought Clark should go with him." 

"You thought?" 

I took a deep, calming breath. "Yes, I thought. That was something the boy shouldn't have had to do by himself." 

"He's not a boy." 

"Fine. It was something the man, any man, shouldn't have to go through alone. Those people tortured him, Jonathan! I couldn't bear the thought of him sitting on an airplane alone with the thoughts of what they did to him. Even if Lex can't talk about what he's feeling, at least Clark can be a distraction. Clark says Lex likes to lecture on and on about history or literature. Anything would be better than wallowing in painful memories." 

"Clark isn't responsible for Luthor's mental health. Neither are you." 

My sauce would have to wait. I turned down the heat beneath the pot and gestured for Jonathan to join me at the table. "Jonathan, honey, you know I love you." 

He sighed. "Why do I feel a lecture coming on?" 

I smiled. "You sound like Clark. And it's not a lecture. Just advice." 

"I can always use some of your advice, Martha. You know that." 

I nodded and plunged ahead. "You need to get over yourself." 

Confusion won over his shock. "What?" 

"I know you have issues with Lionel Luthor. He backed you into a corner and made you do something you didn't want to do. I was there. I remember. And although I personally think the reward was greater than what you consider your sacrifice--" 

"I talked the Rosses into selling to Luthor!" 

"They were grown men, Jonathan! You gave them advice; they were the ones who signed the papers, not you. And complain about Lionel Luthor all you want, but he has been true to his word. Clark's adoption has never been questioned. He hasn't even told Lex about his part in Clark's life or in ours." 

"I screwed over our friends." 

"To secure our son's future." 

He got up and poured himself a glass of water. "Why are you trying to mend fences between me and Lionel Luthor?" 

"Not Lionel--Lex. He and Clark are close. Trying to separate them is only going to jeopardize your relationship with your son. You're going to make him resent you, and I know you don't want that." 

"So you're saying I should just bite my tongue and be there for Clark when Lex betrays him?" 

"I'm saying that you need to consider the possibility that you're wrong. Lex might not betray Clark. I don't see that as the inevitable conclusion of their relationship. Neither does Clark. You look at Lex and see Lionel. We look at Lex and see Lex." 

"I see Lex, too," Jonathan said softly. 

"And what do you see?" 

"A corruptive influence. He's spoiled." 

"He's a hard worker. He risked his personal fortune to buy the fertilizer plant. Do you know what Smallville would be like if Lionel's plans for the plant had gone through? We would be like those towns we see on the news--where the automobile plant closed or the cotton mill closed and the people just sit around the local bars with hopeless looks in their eyes. He saved your friends; he saved this town." 

"Maybe that's what I see in him, too--someone who gets what he wants." 

"There's something wrong with that?" 

"Depends on what it is he wants." 

A light bulb popped on in my head. Jonathan wasn't as blind as I thought. "Maybe that's something best left to Lex and his goal." 

"Lex has money and pretty little sports cars." 

"And Clark has had thirteen years of teaching about the futility of material things." 

"He's just a teenager." 

"With a good head on his shoulders. Trust him, Jonathan." 

"It's Luthor I don't trust." 

"Then fake it. If you're right and Lex does betray Clark, then Clark needs to know he has someone to turn to, someone he can count on." 

Jonathan clutched his glass. "It used to be so easy to protect him." 

"He deserves the chance to make his own choices, his own mistakes." 

"But you don't think Luthor is a mistake, do you? What is it that I'm not seeing?" 

I shook my head. "I don't know what the Lionel blinders are hiding from you. Only you can figure that out once you remove them. It is--it is Lex you object to, right? Not the fact that he's male?" 

Jonathan swept a hand through his hair. "I'm not exactly comfortable with--homosexuality. I'm not disgusted by the thought, but it's not something I think about on a regular basis. Actually, I never thought about it at all, except for locker room jokes, until Lex showed up. And Clark, well, Clark had always shown an interest in Lana." 

Maybe it was because Lana was different, exotic, sort of like one of those strange fish in the back tanks of Rodecker's Pet Shop. Clark had been fascinated by them when he was a child, but they'd made me uneasy. Maybe because they needed darkness to really flourish. Maybe because they looked like they just didn't belong of this earth. Lana didn't resemble either of her parents, and sometimes she just seemed to exist on another plane. And Lex...Lex would have his own display room at Rodecker's. Maybe Lana was just different enough to catch Clark's eye until the real exotic came along. 

"But you'll be okay with it, right? You won't act differently toward Clark because..." 

Jonathan squeezed my shoulder. "Trust me, Martha. Lex being a guy is the least of the problems I have with him. Although Clark has enough secrets to keep, enough reasons for people to attack him. Does he really need to be gay on top of that?" 

"He's a Kent; he can take it. So can you. Because, you know, they may not want to keep it a secret at some point. And there will be talk." 

He slid into his usual seat at the table, and I stirred the sauce. "There already has been talk. I told them they should be watching their own kids instead of mine. You want some wine since we're eating alone?" 

"Sure." 

He grabbed the bottle from the refrigerator. "You know, we're getting way ahead of ourselves. There's nothing going on between the two of them at the moment, right?" 

He tried to sound casual but I heard the tremor of doubt low in his voice. "I'm not sure they're as aware of the vibes between them as we are. Especially now." 

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're right. Lex does need someone in his corner now. I know I haven't said it, but I do feel bad about what happened to him. No one should have to go through something like that, not even a Luthor." 

"Maybe you should tell Clark that." 

"Not Lex?" 

"He'll take it as pity, and he has enough esteem problems after his ordeal." 

"It's not pity," Jonathan argued. 

I placed the pasta and the sauce on the table. "An enemy feeling sorry for you is pity." 

"I'm not his enemy." 

I took the garlic bread from the oven where it'd been keeping warm. "You're not his friend. You've made that quite clear time and time again." 

Jonathan sighed and filled his plate. "Have I already lost the war then?" 

I sat and waited for him to finish with the sauce. "No. But you have some serious ground to make up." 

A thoughtful silence surrounded us as we ate. At the end of the meal Jonathan asked, "Will Clark be back tonight? He has school tomorrow." 

"They'll be back tonight. If Clark feels like he needs to stay with Lex, he'll call." It was a subtle challenge. I wanted to see if what we'd discussed had been taken seriously. 

Jonathan just nodded. "I have some things to finish up in the barn. If he calls, tell him not to be late for school." 

"I'll remind him," I answered, hiding a smile. 

Yes! My boys were going to be okay. 

* * *

Clark came home that night, saying that Lex seemed like Lex. And for weeks afterward, I had to agree. It was a little unnerving to see how well Lex coped. At first, I thought it was an act. Later I came to believe Lex had been so well conditioned to upheaval in his life that one more major crisis was just assimilated and he moved on. 

Then came the news that rocked Lex so badly that he broke. 

It was a Friday night. Lex had some new DVD that Clark had to see. Jonathan was reading the paper, complaining about the latest news out of Washington. I was working on a baby quilt; Jonathan's college roommate was about to become a first-time grandfather. As I sewed, I teased Jonathan about being old enough to bounce grandchildren on his knee. He shot back that maybe Clark dating Lex wasn't such a bad idea. I was laughing when the telephone rang. 

"Mom! Mom, something's wrong with Lex! You have to tell me what to do!" 

I took a deep breath and forced my fear to fade in face of his panic. "Calm down, Clark, and tell me what's going on." 

"Lex passed out, too fast for me to even catch him before he hit the floor. He's so pale." 

Oh, God. "Is he breathing?" Pause. "Clark, is he breathing?" 

"Yes." 

"Nothing's turning blue, like his lips?" 

"No." 

"What was he doing prior to passing out?" 

"He was on the phone. He got a phone call. Then he hung up and just dropped to the floor." 

Bad news. Like the boy needed more. "Okay. Your dad and I are on our way. He'll probably come to in a minute. Keep him calm. Ask if he feels sick or if he wants anything like water. Okay, Clark?" 

"Yeah, okay. Hurry, Mom." 

"I'm on my way, baby." 

Jonathan already had the truck running. Mercy opened the door to the manor, her eyes wide with fright, and she directed us to Lex's bedroom. They were both there, Lex laid out on top of a lavender duvet and Clark hovering over him anxiously. One look told me Clark wasn't overreacting. Lex was paler than usual--which meant I'd seen rosier corpses. However, he was awake, aware, and apologetic. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent, I'm so sorry you were called from your home. Although Clark's reaction was precipitous--" 

I touched his hand and found it clammy. Shock. "Lex, hush," I admonished firmly. "Boys, help him get ready for bed. I'll be back in a minute." 

With Mercy's directions, I made it to the kitchen. It was slightly amusing to see such the capable and well-armed woman rattled for once, but I assured her that Lex was going to be fine. Interesting, I mused after she left me to my task, that Lex had gained her loyalty so quickly. But that was the way it was with Lex; you either liked or disliked him immediately. 

I took my time mixing a restorative toddy, giving the boys time to get Lex settled. Poor Lex. His privacy had been invaded so often lately. Maybe I should have taken Jonathan with me. No. Jonathan needed to know the man Clark and I knew, the one behind the Luthor mask. 

When I returned to the room, Lex was under the covers with Clark sitting on the bed and Jonathan leaning against the wall near the door. I pasted on a smile and handed Lex the drink. He smirked when he tasted the alcohol. 

"I'm feeling better already," he said after taking a long sip of the warm drink. 

"Want to tell us what happened?" I asked gently. 

Shutters clicked into place over his eyes. "I stood up too quickly." 

"Lex." A soft warning from Clark. 

"I received a call from a private investigator." 

"Do I need to get Mercy?" Clark asked. 

He shook his head. "This isn't a security matter. I'm the one who hired the man." 

"To do what?" 

Jonathan's eyes caught mine. No, I'd never heard our son be so...commanding either. 

"I knew the authorities were hiding something. I told you that on the plane coming home from Las Vegas, remember?" 

Clark nodded. 

"I speculated that it might have something to do with the lab tests done on the Hesses. I thought-- " Lex paused and his hand trembled. Clark took the drink and placed it on the night stand. "I thought--I wondered if there was another assailant, one that wasn't caught. I remember the three Hesse brothers clearly, but sometimes I sense a fourth in my memories--a hazy figure who just watches." 

"You never said anything about that." 

Lex shrugged. "I've always had an active--too active, according to my father--imagination. There was no proof this watcher existed, so I just let it go." 

"Oh, Lex," Clark sighed, clearly exasperated. "I wondered why you didn't object to keeping Mercy on as your bodyguard. So is that what your investigator found out? That there is someone else?" 

Lex shook his head. "What no one wanted me to know, what they thought I didn't need to know, was that Sheila Hesse was two and a half months pregnant at the time of her death." 

Two and half--I gasped and shook my head. Lex just nodded, his eyes glittering with emotion. Shit. Fuck. Mentally, I swore like I hadn't since my days in the sorority house. Outwardly, I leaned over and kissed Lex's forehead before getting up and dragging Jonathan out of the room with me. As I closed the door, I saw Clark reach out and wrap his arms around Lex. In response, Lex's hands shakily encircled Clark's back, and his fingers clutched at Clark's shirt, his knuckles white. Lex was hanging on for dear life-- and letting go. Finally. 

In the hallway, I wished I was home. Home where I could throw something and not worry that it was a priceless antique or original. Instead, I just grabbed Jonathan and held on. 

Later, after we'd both stopped trembling, and I finally got past my anger and reached my tears, Jonathan left. He said he thought his presence was making Lex uncomfortable, which was why he'd stayed by the door the whole time he was in Lex's room. I told him I would call him in the morning, and we would all have breakfast together so that Lex would know everyone supported him. 

After walking Jonathan to the door, I went to check on the guys. I knocked softly and went inside when I didn't get an answer. A bedside lamp was the only light. Still dressed, Clark was spooned around Lex, their hands clasped together against Lex's chest. Both were asleep. It was hard to tell in the limited light, but I thought I could see the traces of tears on both faces. There were dark bruises beneath Lex's eyes--which were fluttering beneath translucent lids. An uneasy sleep brought on by sheer exhaustion, I concluded. 

It was as I was turning to leave that the light fell upon the two of them in such a way that it haloed around them. An aura around two sleeping angels. 

My angels. 

"M--Mom?" 

I stared into the eyes of my first child, but not my oldest, not after tonight. Eyes that revealed love, concern...fear. "It's all right, baby," I whispered. "Don't wake him, okay? We'll talk in the hall." I waited until Clark nodded, then I walked out of the room. 

"Mom," Clark began, shutting the door behind him. 

"How is he?" I interrupted. 

"Better, I think. This hit him hard. It was so-- out of left field, you know. He doesn't like surprises." His eyes focus on the floor. "Mom, I--" 

Confession time. I decided to save him. "I know, Clark." 

"I'm sorry." 

I took his chin into my hand and forced him to look at me. Bristles lightly scratched my hand. "Love is a gift; never apologize for it. I just want you to be careful." 

He turned an impossible shade of red. "Mooommm." 

I whapped his arm gently. "That isn't what I meant. And I know you're both smart enough to do what's right. I'm talking about Lex, sweetheart, and what he's been through. You're going to have to move really slowly, if this is what you want." 

Another red flush. "When it comes to this kind of thing, real slow is my top speed," he admitted ruefully. "I hear what you're saying. Lex isn't-- isn't at his best right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. God, Mom, he seems so fragile." 

He wrapped his arms around me, and I marveled that my head barely reached his shoulder. The tiny boy who was as tall as my knee was now this man. But he will always be my beautiful baby boy, my miracle child. And I hoped he would always come to his mama for comfort. 

I rubbed his back, soothing him. "Not fragile-- just healing. Physically and mentally. It's over. He knows he can rest now. He knows that you're here to watch over him while he recovers." 

A shudder ran through Clark. "It won't happen again, Mom. Two weeks--the hardest two weeks of my life. I can't let it happen again. I don't know if I could survive it again." 

"You can't lock him up, Clark, and you can't be with him all the time. He belongs to more than just you." 

"If you're talking about that asshole father of his..." 

I didn't correct his language. Lionel was an asshole. "I'm talking about the world. He belongs to it--like you do." 

Clark pulled back and looked down at me. "You feel it, too?" 

I nodded. "You're both very precious." 

"He needs me to save him, and I need him--to save me." 

I nodded again. Clark was physically  
invulnerable. But emotionally--Jonathan and I had taught him to hold himself back. He was so strong, even as a little tyke, and every time he accidentally broke something, he would cry his eyes out for what seemed like hours. So we'd kept him isolated from his peers until we were sure he could interact with them--and the outside world without too much damage. When we finally felt safe in letting him go, he'd been timid and painfully shy. Even now, he had a tendency to hunch over and blend into the background. Except with Lex. 

I'd surreptitiously watched the two from the beginning. At first it had been because Jonathan felt so strongly that Lex was up to no good--and nobody messed with my baby, even the scion of a billionaire. So I'd watched and soon figured out that Lex was actually good for my son. With Lex, Clark walked tall and confident. He laughed and joked. And instead of being bullied and cowed by that cop, Phelan, he'd been aggressive. I didn't want Clark to be violent, but I'd been happy he'd taken action against Phelan, played Phelan as a fool. That wasn't something he learned from Jonathan and me. No, we had Lex to thank for Clark's quick thinking. He'd given Clark-- possibilities. Clark had out-thought Phelan because he knew it was possible. 

"Then save each other, Clark." 

"Dad?" 

"He understands better than you think he does. And his love for you is stronger than his hatred of the Luthors." 

"What about Lionel Luthor? He won't understand or accept. And Lex doesn't think he's strong enough to stand up against him yet." 

"What do you think?" 

"Neither he nor his dad are aware of how much Lex has grown since he's been living here. He's less cocky, but more confident. Does that make sense?" 

I thought back to the young man who had gone into the plant to exchange himself for a bunch of high school kids. His father had accused him of mock heroics, but that wasn't what I'd seen. I'd seen a man confident that he was doing the right thing. I'd seen a man doing the right thing. That Lex was aware that there was 'right' and 'wrong' made him stronger than his father. "Lex can beat Lionel." 

"But only if he believes he can." 

Or if Lionel is a fool and comes after you, my son. If he tries for you, Lionel may very well learn just how much of Lex is his father's son. 

"You help him to believe." 

Clark nodded. Then he turned his head towards the closed door. "I'm glad they're dead, Mom. I know you don't like it, but I'm glad they're dead." 

His voice hitched and with a shudder he started sinking to the floor. Because there was no way I could hold him up, nor was there any way I'd let him go through this alone, I sank with him and rocked him in my arms as he let out the pain he'd held back for Lex's sake. It'd been a long three months for both of them. 

A soft sound made me look up and I saw Lex standing in his doorway. I could tell he wanted to comfort Clark but didn't want to intrude on the mother/son dynamics he saw. Sometimes, he thought too much. I gave him a patient smile. 

"Come join us, honey." 

Soft cotton pajamas and bare feet folded down next to me. A pale hand carded through Clark's hair. "You all right?" 

Clark sat up and wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt. "Yeah. Just had some stuff I needed to let go of. Moms are pretty good for that sort of thing." He gave me a watery smile. 

"I'm glad you have her," Lex said softly. The ache and longing in his voice were like a physical burn. 

I reached out an arm and drew Lex close to me. "You have me, too," I said, kissing the top of his head. Turning to my right, I did the same to Clark, then smiled as they both snuggled against me and each other. 

As I sat on a hallway floor, surrounded by comfortable bedrooms on both sides, holding my children, I realized they were more than that. They were children of the sky. One boy as warm and golden as the sun, borne to earth in a spaceship; one as pale and scarred as the moon, rising from the ashes of the other's descent. Opposites, but not. Always together, even when one shone brighter, even when one eclipsed the other. Always ruling together. Mated for earth's eternity. It didn't matter who tried to come between them--Lionel Luthor, Jonathan Kent, future enemies, even future lovers--they would all fail when it came to separating them. Destiny was a despot who wouldn't, couldn't, be denied. 

I kissed them both, then tucked them back in bed. As I closed the door, I realized something so basic that I was surprised I hadn't thought of it before. Clark had always been partial to red and blue. As a child, he'd insisted on the colors and when he was older, it was the colors he purchased whenever he could be forced or coerced to shop for himself. 

Red and blue. Didn't need an advanced degree in art to figure that one out. Just a recollection of a grinning, raven-haired toddler, a distraction, and a bare wall. 

Clark had known even then: 

Red + Blue = Purple. 

**THE END**


End file.
